


Siam

by mimikyukyu



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, F/M, Origin Story, pretentious psuedo freeverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimikyukyu/pseuds/mimikyukyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Water is a cycle; like life and death.</p>
<p>Love is a lot like water.</p>
<p>Alternatively, the Siam's origin story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siam

 

_It's the dampness that really gets you.._

 

It's wet, no matter what he tries the entire town is permeated with water. James chuckled first, more of an insane cackle, at how _fitting_ was. Water was life.

Water was death.

Water was an annoyance that slowly dripped, nothing at first, until it pooled on the walls into droplets that slid down to the floor and filled the room up and up and _up_ until...

It reaches its breaking point and bursts its container.

 

James wanders down the empty roads, devoid of animal life, human life, the essence of life though the trees and flowers bloom as if it's a warm spring morning.

He'd kill, ironically, just to see a cockroach.

The trailer he's established as a “home” looms in the foggy distance. James trudges dismally towards it, taking his time almost defiantly.

 

What is there to run from when you have nothing left to hide? There's no need to run or fight, he's done that, he's tired of that. He wants nothing more than to rest, nothing more than to curl around Mary's small, fragile body and breathe in the scent that he learned to _hate_ because his hatred for the woman he loved would be forgotten, forgiven if he could see life again. 

He sleeps on the damp sheets, wringing them out shows no water is on them, but God hates him, James supposes, so why should he be given any comfort? He's always just a little bit hungry, alive but uncomfortable. His body aches in many places, though nothing is wrong with them. His mouth is the only place in the town that's dry.

 

When he wakes up something is different. His lips won't separate, bound together with scar tissue. James shrugs, he doesn't need his voice anymore, and continues on his way. Get up, walk out of the trailer, walk.

 

Walk.

Walk.

Walk.

 

He likes to go to the park, it's where life was most prevalent; young couples would sit and confess secrets in the tiny gazebo, an old man would sit on a bench to greet his pigeons and talk about his children to any stranger who passed the bench. Friends would play catch and dogs would struggle to keep up with their owners.

Newlyweds would declare love.

 

A widower would find a facade.

 

James tries to go back to his car, to the bathrooms, to the scenic overlook of where he first descended into Hell's nightmares. He made it to the parking lot, took out his keys and stopped.

Bad things would happen if he opened the door. He wants to leave but he can't open the door because bad things are in there and will hurt him or mock him or yell at him or throw things or get sick or die or-

 

The dampness is making his clothes stick to everything now. 

James didn't know this before, but water and clothing do not mix well on human skin, not that he cares when the sores appear and yellow his shirt, the seams only soaking up more and turning them a sickly brown.

James wakes up the next morning and he is nothing but sores. His hands dangle uselessly at his sides like misshapen clubs. Just like his voice, he'd never need to use his hands again, never need the dexterity of fingers now that all he could do was wander and think.

 

It's the day he wakes up blind, however, that the truth is elucidated and everything is clear.

Why would he fear the car?

Mary's there!

 

James lumbers on all fours up the path, knowing the bends and dips by heart and bashes his hand into the window. He sees his Mary, her beautiful mouth open in a silent scream, her flesh peeling to reveal the beautiful viscera and bone underneath. James tears his mouth open and roars triumphantly. He carefully places her on his back, she sticks to the sores and it makes him laugh, why should he be afraid of water? Why was he ever?

Water gave Mary life again! James feels her weakened body kick to life and hears her beautiful voice cry in anguish- no- happiness! He feels her stick to his damp body and slowly fuse into one being.

 

Like hydrogen and oxygen.

 

Like a husband and a wife.

 

_Mary, I can protect you now._

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this is pretentious but I figured no one would read it so if you did I love you so fucking much even if you hated it thank you
> 
> Please tell me things in the comments even if it's hate I want to hear it


End file.
